TYLDEN'S ALMANAC:
T H E CHAPBOOK OF A R O Y A L I S T
IN T H E R E S T O R A T I O N
B Y D A N I E L G.
HOFFMAN
Now an instructor in English at Columbiay teaching American literaturey
Mr. Hoffman was formerly connected with Rutgers as lecturer in University
College. He is the author of Paul Bunyan, Last of the Frontier Demigods,
;published by the University of Pennsylvania Press.
M O N G T H E C U R I O S I T I E S in the almanac collection of
he Library is a much-worn leather-bound volume, fastened
with brass clamps, bearing the elaborate title, "Calendarium
Carolinum: / OR, / A N E W A L M A N A C K / After the / O L D
F A S H I O N / For the Yeare of Man's / C R E A T I O N
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/ REDEMPTION
1663." This almanac, " B y George Wharton . . . London, Printed by J . G. for the Company of S T A T I O N E R S , 1663," belonged to one "Willm Tylden." who used its blank
endpapers as a chapbook. Tylden copied down a variety of poems,
ballads, epitaphs, epigraphs, and household accounts. His jottings
make this old almanac a fascinating reflection of the turbulent years
just after the Restoration, as well as a mirror of one man's ardent
royalist sympathies and somewhat libertine tastes.
There is no surviving record of William Tylden himself, but he
has left us the information that he owed "shoomaker de chart: for
one paire of shooes for my wife.—3 — 6," and that he had incurred
"for hony and a crock" the indebtedness of 4s 2d. We find that he
employed a maid and a man ( " I owe him for wages since candlemas.
63. May 18. 64."), and that his uncle Toke was "Sherife." This
supporter of Charles I I , then, was a man of some means. As appears
from internal evidence in the epitaph upon Lovelace, "our Recorder"
(discussed below), Tylden probably lived in or near Canterbury. As
appears from the lyric, " I am a Blade old," he was not a noble but
most likely a prosperous member of the mercantile class.
The verses Tylden chose to remember reveal charming contradictions in his character/On his pages moralistic platitudes jostle cavalier lyrics and a lusty fabliau. Tylden inscribed the following pious
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THE JOURNAL OF THE
mottoes on the last page of the endpapers; these sentiments probably
had little effect upon his conduct:
If thou wilt life contentedly
Observe these rules Diligently.
First serve ye Lord unfaignedly
Recieue his blessings thankfully
Relieue thy Ki^iti calling honestly
Doe noe man wrong unadvisedly
Passe over troubles patiently
Answere thy Betters modestly
Love not, nor wedd wantonly
Least thou repent thee hastily
And soe be plagued worthily.
On the other hand it would be uncharitable to suppose that the following Cavalier doggerel is any surer a representation of the man
who sang it over his cups. (That he did sing in his cups is attested by
"Verses upon ye unfortunate breaking of A glasse in a Taverne.")
Here is the doggerel:
I am a Blade old
yt from a
trade
have taken out a new one.
'tis only this
to court & kisse
sweare oaths but near a true one.
I can tell an hundred lies
and a thousand more devise
now way yt like since Adam
I can follow whom I please
wth a flattering disease
And yr humble servant Madam
I have gott a place at Court
ne're paid a peny for't
But yr. humble servt madam
The Divill & I
in Ambush lye
to catch all kinde of Ladies
I can call them pretty souls
though they be as old as Pauls
Then I a Bonny Ladd am
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All passions I
can falsify
hypocrisy my trade is
I have of late
gain'd an estate
By humouring of Ladies.
And I very well doe finde
That I serve them in their kinde
for Eve beguiled Adam
Women first did cousin men
And lie cousin them ag'en
Wuth y r . humble serv*. Ma./.
In the second war against the Dutch, Tylden followed the fortunes
of the English fleet with avid and meticulous interest. Sixteen pages
of the endpapers contain a catalogue of "His Maiesties Fleet Royall
sent out and employed in ye Dutch-warre April. 3d. 1665 " listing
the ships in the order of their ratings with figures for their accompaniment of men and guns and the dates of their construction. The
final total shows the fleet to have contained 132 ships, 20,970 men,
and 4390 guns, surely a formidable armada.
The man who mocked fawning knights also rejoiced to the martial
strain of this naval ballad, probably copied down from a broadside
of the time:
Verse upon ye late warre wth ye
Dutch . Feb : ioth 64
Downe Hogen Mogen, Dagon States; 1
You shall insult noe longer.
There's noe resisting of your Fates,
Weake Powers must bow to stronger
You fight not now wth D'alvas Duke ;
Who could not bring you under.
'Tis Royall Yorke shall yo rebuke
Where e're his canon thunder.
Bribe not in vaine your old acquaintance
Sr Ambideyser [ ? ] Downing. 2
1
" D o w n , High and Mighty States-General."
This is a reference to Sir George Downing ( 1 6 2 3 ? - i 6 8 4 ) . Of him Burnet writes,
"Downing was then employed in Holland, a crafty fawning man, who was ready to
turn to every side that was uppermost, and to betray those who by their former friendship and services thought they might depend on him" (Bishof Burners History of His
Own Time, London, 1 7 2 4 , I, 1 9 8 ) , and claims that he purposely stirred up the war
between the Dutch and the English. The sketch of Downing in the D.N.B. remarks
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52
'Tis satisfaction and repentance
must make Charles leave his frowning.
The Orange Tree, whose shade & fruite
Y r failing strengthe renewed
You would have pluckt up by ye root
O! Base Ingratitude!
Usurping Nail to satisfy;
You banish't Charles ye Second,
And vowed against his Family;
Those scores han't yet been reckon'd
Though High & Mighty States long while
Y r selues you have professed
You shall return to yr old style,
Of writing poore distressed.
Expect noe succors now from France;
Lesvis [ ? ] is out of T u n — Sr.
The Turks at Gygory poor — Hance
Unhectored that your Monsr.
Those Sturts which Skellums on hand
jeerd
Waite at Opdam in ye Narrows.
They'l teare yr Belgik Lyons Beard,
And Burn your sheath & Arrows.
Orange restore, with Charles agree.
Strike sayle without deferring, —
Or else wee will lett in ye Sea
And pickle you like Herring. —
Finis.
Among the other verses in Tylden's hand is the following satirical
epitaph. Its subject, Francis Lovelace (1618-1658), is often confused with a brother of the poet Richard Lovelace. He was in fact
"son of Launcelot Lovelace, of the Canterbury Branch of the family . . . took an active part against the Parliament in Kent, was recorder of Canterbury in the year of the Restoration, and in his official capacity delivered an address to the king and another to the
queen (Henrietta Maria) on their passage through the place in 1660.
that "Thanks to judicious bribery he was extremely well-informed of all the debates
and counsels of the States-General, and he boasted to Pepys that he had frequently
had De Witt's pockets picked of his keys and read his most important papers" ( v , 1 3 0 5 ) .
Sir George is the man for whom Downing Street, Whitehall, is named.
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He died on i March 1664, being then steward of the chancery court
of the Cinque Port." 3 He was not well liked by Willm Tylden.
Councell: Lovelace his Epitaph
made by T . G. Esq.
Under this stone lyes our Recorder
T o whom death was a great disorder
Lovelace his name, who would without fees
The instest cause would let to freeze
Hee was soe used to cheat yt hee
Thought to bribe death, to set himself free
But if he had trepand death soe
The Divell will have his due you know
Lovelace your death, well, lye still, be wise,
For you'l be damn'd, if e're you rise.
A more respectful commemoration is the following full-dress elegy
for Colonel George Choute. Doubtless an estimable gentleman of
Canterbury, Colonel Choute has left few other memorials to posterity besides this one. He is listed in Alumni Cantabrigiensis almost
cursorily: "Choute, George. Adm. pens, at Trinity, Sept. 6, 1656.
Matric. 1656." As Tylden's almanac contains no date later than
1665, Choute apparently died within a decade of his admission to
Cambridge. His "discourse of Infants Baptisme," referred to in the
margin of the elegy, does not survive and is not listed in the Catalogue of the British Museum. So all we know of him must come to
us from this anonymous elegy.
An Elegy
Upon y e Death of Coll:
George Choute.
Vivit post funera
virtus
Oh! yt I could; (most noble Collonell)
In tuneful Elegyes, but ring thy knell
A silence rather, doth my worth befitt,
Where there's not language knowne to publish it,
Yet can I not be silent, nor refraine
T o mention him; out of whose fluent braine
z
D.N.B.y XII, 168.
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Did glide apace, full streames of Eloquence,
(Rich Soule of witt & language) late from hence
Departed, and exalted where on . high
*His discourse
He sits and sings
Heavens Hierarchy j
o/^^Baptis
Has left to us his* 1 ract a president
J
—m e /
Of piety & learning, to prevent
Our falling from ye Church, and laying hold
On heresies crept in; which were foretold
Should come to passe; in these our latter daies
His paines therefore in this, will be his praise ;
And after-Ages, when the view ye fame
Shall celebrate his never dying Name.
Besides his tract, ye learned manuscripts
Of witt and worth, breath'd from his sweetest lips;
Drawne to ye life; by his ingenious pen
The likes not left amongst ye sons of men,
Indeede his studie, was his sole delight,
His chiefest solace there (each day and night
That passed by) he tooke, omitting not
T o leave Examples, nere to be forgott,
His milde and meekest nature, here below
Whilst that he lived, All ye world did know
Of almes and charity, unto the poore
Distressed fatherlesse, he gave great store.
His loyalty to Charles ye First was knowne
Whose iust & lawfull cause, he made his owne,
Active in armes; to beate proud Rebells downe
But lost ye day; and soe did Charles his crowne
A Crowne of glory, now each doth enioy
That fadeth noth, but flourisheth allway
Great was ye losse, when wee lost thee Deare Choute
Lamented much by all; our coasts throughout.
A worthy Freind I lost, the like did all
The servants here, when him grim Death did call
Freind, Father, wife, Uncle, sonne, Sister, Brother,
All at a losse, did stand, to finde another
That better was belov'd, than he, theres none
On earth; like ye Beloved Choute, that's gone,
Omnipotent Lord God, prepare us then
His steps to follow; till wee meet agen.
Longe live ye widdow, wth her fatherlesse,
Be thou to them a comfort in distresse
And give to them, and theires thy grace on earth
T o learne to live; and live to dye, when death
Shall seuze theure corps, grant they may have wth thee
A resting place, the Saints Felicity.
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These lines are weake; the penns of witt in Art
And laming dipt, shall write thy vast defect
Who e're then writg, and would define thy parts
Must needes conclude, with thee rests, All ye Arts.
Reader my new Borne Muse (In english verse)
Was never loosely pind to any hearse
Correct therefore th'Erratas wth thy pen
Or els wth teares, I'le Blot these out agen.
Though Death of late did feele thy Collonells pulse
Yet at command, we'ele serve thee Capt. Hulse.
There are some felicitous touches in this poem which make one
doubt that its author's Muse was "new Borne . . , (in english verse)."
Surely the hand that joined Choute and Charles I so gracefully with
a "Crowne of glory" had tried making rhymes before. The last two
lines before the afterthought final couplet also show a worthy conceit. From the mention of mourning servants before the members of
the family, and the conjunction of " A worthy Freind I lost, the like
did all / The servants here" one would surmise the poet to have
been a retainer of Choute's household. Whoever he was, it is his
elegy rather than his good patron's deeds which survives to "celebrate his never dying Name."
And Tylden lives in the endpapers of his almanac. Royalist, patriot, hater of sham, lover of wine and merry tales, punctilious in his
debts, sincere in friendship, we see this one man's life during the
years when Charles was restored, the Dutch engaged, and London
burned. Through him, we savor the age itself.